by Rebel Farris
“Well, that brings me to what I was going to say,” Nate says, breaking the silence. “What I heard of the songs you wrote is great. What are the odds of getting you into the studio to record them?”
“Uh, I hadn’t thought that far into it. I just wanted to get this stuff in my head written down.”
“We could always rent space from another studio here in town?” Asher suggests.
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. I can…”
I stop because I’m just not sure I can go into that part of the building. I haven’t even attempted it in four years. I don’t want to promise them that I will, when the possibility remains that I could let them down. Both men stare at me, expecting some kind of an answer. I squirm, avoiding their penetrating stares and looking everywhere but at them. Has my office always been this small? I try to draw in a breath that seems to lodge in my throat. The lights dim.
I see Asher and Nate in front of me, and I try to speak, but nothing comes out. Asher’s face twists into a frown. He moves to get up, but the door behind him opens. He stops as a new person enters the room. All the sounds are muffled. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my vision. Familiar hands brush my hair back from my face. A subtle woodsy cologne tickles my nose. His hands cup my chin. I open my eyes finding his aquamarine gaze. Dex.
I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. Like finding my anchor, I hold on to him as the room returns to normal and my breathing evens out.
“You’re back,” I say, my voice muffled by his shirt.
He chuckles, and I hear the rumble deep in his chest. “Miss me?”
I nod. “I feel safer when you’re here.”
I pull back and look up at him. His smile takes my breath away but in the best way. His head dips and kisses the corner of my mouth.
“You okay?” Dex asks.
I nod. I turn to find Asher and Nate watching us. My cheeks heat up. I fight back the urge to hide in Dex’s arms again.
“What did I miss?” Dex asks, breaking the awkward silence.
Another scent invades my senses. My eyes land on a large paper sack next to Dex’s feet.
“Please tell me that’s what I think it is?” I ask, my mouth watering.
“It is if you think it’s Salt Lick barbecue,” Dex replies.
His head tilts to the side. A grin kicks up one side of his mouth, exposing a sexy dimple. Damn. I lick my lips, and his eyes grow heated. I look away.
“My dad lives out in Driftwood, and I usually swing by there every time I’m out that way,” Dex explains. “I didn’t know what you would like, so I got a couple pounds of everything. There’s enough to share.”
“Thank God,” Asher says, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I was contemplating diving across the table and running with it.”
I laugh. “You wouldn’t’ve made it far.”
“I’d be counting on you taking him out, leaving it fair game for me to grab it and lock myself in my office,” Nate says, his eyes locked on the bag.
A deep belly laugh erupts from me. I can’t blame them. Texas barbecue will do that to people.
“Ash, you want to go grab some plates from the break room?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, I do,” Asher says, jumping over the back of the couch. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll go get us some drinks,” Nate says, standing. “Coke?”
“Sounds good,” Dex replies.
“Yes, please,” I say, leaning into Dex. I look up and catch him watching me. “Thank you.”
His face softens. “I’ll buy you barbecue every day for the rest of your life if it makes you smile like this.”
My heart skips a beat, and I stare at him for a moment before I gather my wits. I wrinkle my nose. “Nah, it wouldn’t be special if you could get it every day.” I kiss his cheek. “But thank you, it’s very thoughtful. I do appreciate it.”
A throat clears, and I jump, startled. Brad stands near my desk, wringing his hat in his hands again.
“It’s all set up,” Brad says. “You can use the same login to get on this one.” He gestures to the computer. “If you need anything else, just call my extension.” He looks around a bit. “Anyhoo, I’ll leave you two… I really am sorry, Maddie.”
“Brad,” I sigh. “I don’t know what to say or how to deal with this.”
“I promise you, I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t even know this was your place until I came in for the final interview with Mr. Thompson and saw your name on this office. He offered me the job on the spot, and I couldn’t turn it down. Lisa—” He stops and swallows heavily.
A dark laugh bubbles up. “Lisa?”
“Yeah.” Brad puts his hat back on and looks down at his feet. “She got pregnant senior year. We have a son, Dylan. We weren’t ever together, but it doesn’t stop her from calling about the child support.” He sighs.
I press my lips together and nod. Okay, maybe I feel a little bad for him because I’m sure that whole situation is… unpleasant, knowing Lisa. The second he leaves the room, Dex speaks.
“Who was that?”
“It’s the weirdest thing, but exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. That’s my ex-boyfriend from junior high and part of high school. I just found out he’s been working here for the last four years.”
“How is that possible?”
“His office is in the old part of the building, and I haven’t been in there since—you know. And he said he’s just avoided me all these years. It’s really weird, but I don’t think it would be that hard. I’m only in the office sporadically and haven’t had any tech issues. But here’s what I’m thinking. He has access to my computer.”
Dex’s eyebrows raise. “You think he might be your stalker?”
“It’s possible,” I say, biting my lower lip and shrugging.
His gaze zeroed in on my mouth. “Is there a reason why you would think that, other than the fact that he’s been hiding that he works for your company?”
“No. Not really. We didn’t end well, but I never got the impression that it bothered him much.”
“I’ll check him out. I got some news for you, though. I had Marcus working on some stuff for me since he has some free time while Holly’s at work. That cop who busted us at the park. He isn’t a cop.”
“What? You were looking into that?”
“Yeah, I made a mental note of his badge number,” Dex says as he taps his temple. “I didn’t want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing.”
I blink, a bit stunned. “Okay. What does that mean, though?”
“Whoever that was did some impressive level impersonation of a peace officer. You didn’t recognize him?”
“No, never seen him before in my life.” I flop back on the couch, my mind officially scrambled. “It’s like, the more I find out, the more I don’t know what to think.”
“What was that guy’s name?” Dex asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Brad Boyd. He’s from Canyon Lake, too, but I assume he lives in Austin now.”
The door opens, and Asher strolls in with the plates and silverware.
“I’m going to step outside,” Dex says. “Get Marcus to look into that tonight as well.”
“Okay,” I agree and watch him walk out the door.
“I gotta say,” Asher says, “I was skeptical about him at first. But I’ve never seen anyone pull you out of a panic attack like that. He seems to be good for you. I take it things are going well?”
“Yeah, so far,” I say, looking down at my hands.
“But…?”
“Have you been taking lessons from Evan?” I smirk.
He smiles. “No, it’s just what friends do when they’re worried about another.”
“I took him to the club yesterday, before it was open, and explained it a bit. But he hasn’t seen it—you know—when people are there. We’re going there tonight. I’ve a fight, so we’ll see. I just can’t h
elp but think this might be too much for him. That he’ll walk away, you know?”
He laughs. I mean, he really laughs, and I can feel my face heat with anger. He catches sight of me and stops.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “That’s a bit ridiculous, though. No guy I know thinks, my girl is into some kinky shit, how horrible.”
“Not everyone is okay with that stuff, and he might be one of them. I don’t know if I can go down that road again, but I’m trying.”
“I think it’ll be okay. I’ll be at the club tonight. If you need backup, let me know.” He grins. “It’s good to be home.”
I start pulling out the food and laying it on the table as Dex and Nate walk in, and conversation stalls as we all dig in.
Then
“Get dressed in this.” Sloane tossed a dress at my head. “I’ve got shoes, too.”
“What am I getting dressed for now?” I whined.
We had just returned to the hotel after the talk show. I was exhausted.
Ruby bounced on the bed beside me. “We’re in New York. And we’ve got a VIP—you. We can’t not hit the hot clubs. Plus, you don’t have the kids with you. You need to get out and live a little while you can.”
“Exactly. You have your whole entourage of badass bitches to entertain. We love you, but there has to be perks, too,” Bridget said, coming out of the bathroom.
“What do you mean, perks? You’re getting paid. Sloane, too. Holly, Ruby, and Dawn are the only ones here out of free will alone.”
“But we would’ve been stupid to pass up a free trip to New York.” Ruby grinned.
“Truth,” Holly said, bumping fists with Ruby.
“Fuck, yeah,” Dawn agreed, popping her head over the back of the couch.
“Come on, get dressed so I can do your makeup and hair. We’ve got reservations to keep,” Sloane said, pulling me off the bed. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll call Press-zilla to join us.”
She grinned evilly. I booked it into the bathroom and could hear their laughter trailing me inside. I took a quick shower before getting dressed. An hour later we were all dressed and headed through the lobby to the waiting town car. Asher met us at the car.
“There’s something I have to tell you before we get there,” Sloane said, looking at her phone and sending another text message. “My brother is here for a fight, and when I mentioned we were going out, he said he was going to join us.”
My head snapped in her direction. “What?”
“He’s just going to be at the same club as us, not a big deal.”
“It’s a horrible idea,” I protested. “Why would you even tell him where we’re going?”
“I didn’t think about it,” Sloane said, looking sheepish. “I was just excited about being in New York…”
Everyone else remained quiet. The rest of the ride was silent. We pulled up outside a nightclub, where paparazzi were scattered about, waiting to grab a picture of entering VIPs. Dread filled my body. I hadn’t been “famous” long, but long enough to despise people roaming around with cameras and questions.
We shuffled a little getting out of the car, me being the last to exit. The girls gathered on each side of me to block me from the cameras. That plan failed miserably as soon as I heard his voice.
“Laine,” Law said.
I turned to see him wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Why does he have to look sexier every time I see him? I closed my eyes, trying to erase the vision. When I opened them, he was right in front of me. Fucking perfect. Cameras flashed in my periphery as people shouted questions that I didn’t even bother to hear.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“I’m in town for a fight. Thought I’d come see you while we’re in the same place.”
“You know I’m still with him, right?”
“Have you walked down the aisle?”
“I’m not doing this.” I turned to walk into the club, and he caught my hand.
“Doing what? I’m just here to hang out, catch up. I didn’t ask anything from you.”
“Yet.” I tried to put on a brave face as I pulled my hand from his grasp.
“I like the hair and this dress,” he whispered into my ear, his hands landing on my hips.
My elbow flew back to catch him in the stomach, but he was quicker than me and grasped it before it made contact. He grinned that lopsided, one-dimpled smirk at me.
“I got a hotel room. You can hurt me all you want there.”
“Fuck you.”
“That’s what I’m offering.”
Infuriating. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I was so pissed. I marched forward, trying to lose him. Sloane cast me an apologetic look. I’m not sure how I ever convinced myself that I loved him. Nobody in the entire world could get under my skin the way he could. We got up to the VIP area, where I headed straight for the bar.
“I need three shots,” I yelled to the bartender over the loud music.
“Of what?” the bartender, a blonde woman close to my age, shouted back.
“Whatever will get me drunk fastest.”
“That kind of night, huh?” She smiled.
She lined up three glasses and poured three shots. She turned the bottle label toward me and grinned.
“Vodka. It’s easier to shoot. If you were sipping, I’d go with whiskey.” She shrugged and wiped down the counter. “Has tall, dark, and broody behind you got something to do with your urgency?”
“Everything,” I said, tipping back the first shot. “My ex.”
“Oh, rough.” She made a face like she tasted something sour.
I threw back the other two shots and ordered a coke to wash it all down. She slid the coke across the bar.
“Good luck with that,” she said with a smile, her eyes flicking to Law behind me.
I turned around to find him staring at my ass. His eyes heated in that way that I knew he was thinking up imaginative things he would do to me if given a chance. I rolled my eyes at him and walked over to the reserved table we had. The girls were already on the dance floor. Asher was warming the seat in the U-shaped booth. I sat next to him.
“You not going to get out there and dance?” I asked Asher.
He shrugged. “Not my style.”
I laughed. “Okay, then.”
Law showed up holding a bottle of water and started to sit next to me. I cut him a look that said he would meet an untimely end if he did, and he moved to the other side of the table. Asher’s gaze bounced between Law and me.
“Asher,” Asher said.
“Law,” Law replied, shaking his offered hand.
“Oh, shit,” Asher said. “You’re Law Russo. Like, the Law Russo.”
“The one and only, that I’m aware of.”
“You two know each other?” Asher asked.
“Very well,” Law insinuated with his tone.
I cut him a dirty look.
“I watched your fight last week out of Vegas. That was badass. The odds were on the other guy. You took him out in eight seconds. I bet your promoters were pissed.”
I tuned them out as they talked about the fight. This was going to be a long night. I took another shot and then joined the girls on the dance floor. Countless songs later, I was breathless and thirsty. Sweat gathered on my hairline and the back of my neck.
My phone vibrated in my clutch that pressed against my thigh. I ignored it because we were trying to take a break from all the madness. When it buzzed again, I decided to look. It could’ve been Diana contacting me about the kids.
Two missed text messages. They were coming from an unknown number.
your finally getting the recognition you deserve. so proud of you
btw you look stunning in that black dress and i like the new hair
As I was reading these, a third one came through that knocked the wind out of me. A picture of a red calla lily with the inscription: for you.
&nbs
p; I took a screen capture of my phone and pulled up Officer Martinez’s cell number and sent it to him. It took a few minutes for a reply.
Martinez: Where are you?
Me: In New York.
Martinez: I’ll take this to the Captain. Maybe we can finally get a detective assigned.
Me: I’m coming back to Austin tomorrow. I want to meet with your Captain.
Martinez: I’ll see what I can do.
Me: Thanks.
I put the phone back into my purse, but looking down at my hands was when it hit me. I wore a white blouse with black high-waist pants at the interview today. I was wearing the black dress at the club. My panicked gaze darted around.
“What’s wrong?” Law asked, moving to sit next to me.
“He’s here,” I said absently.
“Who’s here?”
“Him. Him. He’s watching me now. He knows what I’m wearing right now.”
“Laine, calm down. You’re not making sense.”
“Asher, go get the girls. We have to go.” I dug the phone back out and pulled up the texts and tossed it to him.
He looked down at the phone and back at me, recognition blooming on his face. He nodded. “On it.”
“Laine, explain to me what’s going on.”
“I’ve a stalker, okay? Why do you care? Just go back to your—whatever it is you do these days.”
“Have I not been making myself clear?” He gripped my shoulders, forcing me to face him. “I still love you. Of course I care.”
“You have a real funny way of showing it because as far as I’m concerned, if you love someone, you fight for them.” I shrugged his hands off.
He laughed darkly. “You know, I told myself that exact same thing, trying to let you go.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you’re one to talk. Did it ever cross your mind to fight for me, Laine?”
I felt the rug get pulled out from under me as I realized he had a point. We both could’ve tried harder, but the thing about us was that we both sucked at communicating. I couldn’t think about it anymore. What was done, was done. I was still engaged to Jared.